Subscbibe to new Poems

Top Poets

Pen to paper,
One last time,
Trying my hardest,
Not to rhyme,
Simple simplicity,
Complex in it’s measure,
Broken ideas,
New found treasures.
I write and I write,
In this empty book,
We fight and we fight,
Till my hand is shook.
Why can’t it be easy?
Why can’t it be fair?
Complaining again,
While I fight for this air,
Contemplating again,
Hand hurt by the pressure,
A sting in the heart,
Giving my hand a lecture,
I push to the end,
The last line in the tank—
Try to read it all back,
But the lines blank.